


Lord Inquisitor Fire-Fist

by Pagan_chan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, One Piece
Genre: Ace won't take no bs, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Multi, Self-Indulgent, Ships to be added - Freeform, World Hopping, other characters to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14457480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pagan_chan/pseuds/Pagan_chan
Summary: After dying in what most would consider a blaze glory, that should be it. Next up - the afterlife. But the universe seems to disagree with that and now the fearsome 2nd Division Commander of the Whitebeard Armada is a savior sent by the Maker, or so the good people of Thedas seem to believe. Is this actually a second chance or some sort of cosmic middle finger? Only time, shenanigans, and drama will tell.





	1. The Wrath of Heaven pt 1

“Thank you for loving me.”

And that should have been it, but now Ace stands in some sort of abyss, green mist swirling about him, and not much else. He looks around, confused. A crackling noise breaks the silence and he starts, fists curling defensively. If this is the afterlife, it’s bullshit.

A light above and ahead catches Ace’s attention. There’s a glowing woman reaching out – to him? He’s not sure, but finding out sure as hell beats standing here. Everything about this is surreal, he notes idly as he begins to walk. It’s then a loud chittering fills the air.

“Son of a bitch.”

Ugly spider creatures are rushing him from it feels like everywhere. Ace immediately books it, heading straight up the incline. This is hell, definitely hell his brain is screaming as one hand reaches out. That woman’s still reaching out and his fingers brush hers -----

Waking up kneeling, shackled on the cold hard ground sucks just as much the second time around. Ace groans as he takes in his surroundings. Cells take up three sides of the room, and four guards stand at the ready, blades aimed at his throat. His blood turns to ice, mind flashing back to the execution platform. He shakes it off, mouth opening to let what he’s sure would be a witty quip out when his left hand violently crackles and flashes green light. Ace gasps at the agony, spine going ramrod straight as he fights the urge to curl in on himself. The door slams open, admitting two women, both of whom look unhappy with him. The guards lower their blades, standing at attention.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” The taller of the women speaks, her light eyes burning with anger. The other, a red-head, watches on, her gaze no less intense but there’s something else there…

But Ace is pretty sure he’s supposed to dead, this is clearly hell, and he’s never responded well to government types. And boy, did this lady reek of law and order. Pushing down the pain, Ace smiles, slow and lazy.

“Look lady, two things: One, whatever the fuck a Conclave is – I had nothing to do with it. And two, ya can’t kill what’s all ready dead. So, yeah.”

She snarls, hand flying out to seize hold of his left wrist, grip tight as she hauls his hand up. It crackles and flashes again, sending a fresh wave of agony through him.

“Then explain this!”

Ace drops the smiles and jerks his hand away, breathing deep through clenched teeth.

“I fucking can’t cause I don’t know!”

This can’t possibly be the afterlife – it hurts too damn much. But he can tell he has no fire; it would’ve rushed to soothe his agony by now. Fuck, he’s not used to being in this much pain for this long.

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it fucking sounds like!”

“You’re lying!”

Her hand flies back, clearly ready to hit him but the other woman intervenes. In all the excitement, Ace almost forgot about her. Careless of him. He watches them with narrowed eyes.

“We need him, Cassandra.” She states, calm and measured. Ah, so she’s the reasonable one. Or the one more likely to opt for more inventive ways to get the desired answers. Normally, he’d make them work for it, but he’s not in the mood for torture.

“Look, last time I’m gonna say it. I don’t fucking know what you guys are going on about, okay? One minute I’m drowning in my own blood, the next I’m in some crazy place with spider-things chasing my ass and a glowing lady reaching out to me.” Ace says, flexing his aching hand. He contemplates breaking free, but there are still too many unknown risks for now. Better to bide his time.

“Lady?” the red-head presses.

“Yeah. Like I said, she was reaching for me...” Ace trails off, feeling like there should be more but his mind is coming up blank. Cassandra and the other watch him for a moment before looking at each other.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift.”

Leliana – good to have a name for the face – nods and leaves. Cassandra comes to him and begins exchanging the manacles for rope, the guards standing a little closer. Ace gives them a bored look.

“All right. I’ll bite. What happened?”

Cassandra pulls Ace to his feet.

“It will be easier to show you.”

She leads him out of the dungeon, down a hallway to go up some stairs into what looks like a chapel of sorts, then out the doors into the bright light of day. And holy fuck is it cold outside!

Ace shivers hard, missing his fire even more now. He looks around at the small village they’re in and then up.

“Oh, holy fuck.”

Yellowish-green tinges the sky, a brightly glowing tear crackling ominously, and Ace forgets how to breathe. He must be alive after all – must be – because there’s no way this is any sort of afterlife. It’s too much, too damn complicated to be punishment for his shitty existence. Cassandra steps in front of him, drawing his gaze away.

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

“An explosion did that? Bullshit.” Ace has seen all sorts of explosions in his short twenty years of life, and none have caused anything like this. Cassandra turns to look at him, frowning.

“This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

As if on cue, a loud boom echoes as the Breach expands. With it, Ace’s left hand lights up, sickly green glow bringing a fresh wave of agony. Ace barely manages to stay on his feet, a guttural cry leaving him.

Cassandra surprisingly steadies him, firm but gentle hands gripping his elbows. She looks him in the eyes, and beneath the anger, Ace sees a flicker of sympathy.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Ace drops his gaze, mind swimming. If he really is alive, he’s not too keen on dying again. The first go around sucked enough as is. If he helps, they can probably help him get rid of this thing in his hand and – if he’s really lucky – get him back to his crew.

Fuck, Oyaji and Luffy – everybody was still fighting and he has no idea if they’re okay. He takes a deep breath and looks up with a grin.

“All right. Take my head off the chopping block and you got yourself a deal.”

Cassandra sighs out through her nose, before giving a terse nod and letting him go to turn, leading the way. The townsfolk watch them pass, looks of anger and disgust directed at him as they mutter quietly among themselves. His gut twists and Ace opts instead to watch the ground, not wanting to prompt an attack. He knows what angry people in large groups are capable of, and he picks up his pace to be closer to Cassandra. She takes note of his unease, and leads him to a less populated path, away from their gaze.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.”

Ace nods his understanding, but some things don’t register. Mages? Templars? Chantry? All he gets is that some important religious figure is dead and he’s taking the blame.

As they walk, soldiers ahead open large wooden gates and they pass through. The gates swiftly slam shut behind them as Cassandra pulls out a knife.

“There will be a trial. I can promise no more than what I already have.” She slices through the ropes. “Come. It is not far.”

“Wow. Taking me to certain death and you don’t even ask my name. Tsk-tsk.”

Cassandra’s eyes widen, and hilariously, she blushes.

“It’s Ace, by the way.” He winks at her, starting off down the path. “So remind me exactly where we’re going.”

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.” Cassandra regains composure quickly and catches up to him, frowning. “And I apologize for not asking.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Things are a mess and your mind’s on bigger things.” Ace shrugs, running a hand through his messy hair. It feels cleaner than he remembers it being.

They walk in relative silence for a bit, Ace taking inventory of himself and his surroundings. Aside from his hand, he seems to be all right. Someone at some point cleaned him up a bit and changed him out of his shorts and into a warm outfit. He’ll thank them for sure if he survives this mess. They pass people along the way – some fleeing, some praying, and some who lie unmoving in the snow. Ace wishes he could help, but he doubts his presence would be welcome, so he focuses instead on getting to the objective.

At some point, his hand acts up, nearly brings Ace to his knees and he clenches his teeth hard to suppress urge to scream. God, what he wouldn’t give for the comforting rush of his fire. Cassandra grips his elbows again, helping him stay upright as he lets out a low keening noise.

“Shit, that hurts.”

“The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

“Then how the fuck did I survive the blast?” Ace asks, pulling away to stand on his own, left hand flexing, trying to ease the tension. Cassandra observes him for a moment before resuming their course, Ace following close behind.

“They said you...stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

“Well that’s...interesting.” Ace says.

And of course the trip couldn’t go without a hitch. As they cross a bridge, something crashes down sending everything on it flying. Which fucking sucks. Ace is forever grateful for the lifetime of experience that taught him how to react, body instinctively curling so he can roll, shaking off a good portion of the impact. Doesn’t stop it from stinging like a motherfuck though. As he regains his feet, he hears the hiss of a sword leaving its scabbard and Cassandra is charging to fight right at – oh, what the fuck is that?!

There’s two of them, one against Cassandra and the other comes at him, growling from god only knows where as it’s clawed hands reach out for him. The shape of it is flat out wrong – his brain is screaming but Ace forces himself into action.

Ace kicks the thing – is this the demon Cassandra mentioned? - away from himself, sending it sliding a few feet away. He looks around, wanting something in his hands to give his blows more oomph.

Ah! There – a staff! He kicks it up into his hand, giving it an experimental swing. Good balance, decent heft. It would do.

After arming himself the demon is child’s play, easily beaten to a pulp despite Ace’s own current state. Cassandra dispatches her foe just as fast, before rounding on him.

“Well that was bracing.”

“Drop your weapon. Now.”

Ace freezes, before frowning.

“Oh, hell no. I’m not keen on going hand to hand with those things.”

Cassandra scowls, taking a step forward, then sighing.

“You’re right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” She resheathes her blade, shield going onto her back. “Your life is threatened enough as it is.”

She gives him vials of red liquid – potions, she calls them – and they move on. The Breach still looks so far away. Ace sighs, flexing his left hand to alleviate the pain. At this rate, he’d prefer to still be dead.


	2. Wrath of Heaven part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends, a new face in desperate need of a punch, and new reasons for poor Division Commander to wish he was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Future note of warning, updates are gonna sporadic af since I don't know how to prioritize my time and have also begun a second project. If you wanna chat about the goings on of Inky Ace, feel free to hit me up on my tumblr: http://pagans-inane-musings.tumblr.com

Demons officially fucking suck in Ace’s utmost personal opinion. The nasty little buggers come in varying shapes, either slinging god knows fucking what at his face or attempting remove it with long, gruesome claws. The staff takes a fair amount of abuse as he wields it with a ferocity to match the demons.

Ace hardly takes note of the little cuts and bruises he picks up as they press on, being used to taking far worse beatings in mock fights.

The winding path leads them up and down, and the exertion keeps them warm. Ace subtly keeps an eye on Cassandra at first, but as she seems to take far less damage than him, he focuses instead on the road ahead.

As they climb a hill, roaring and swords clanging mingle with voices to cause a chaotic din. Ace immediately breaks into a run.

“I take it demons versus people?” Ace shouts over his shoulder.

“Soldiers! We must help them!” She shouts back, trying to match his pace.

Ace easily outstrips her and leaps into the fray, drop kicking a demon away from a short fellow wielding a crossbow.

“Hope ya don’t mind me dropping in!”

The little guy laughs as he shoots the downed demon. Any reply is lost to Ace as he lunges for his next target. From there, the demons are easily dispatched, and as he stops to catch his breath, a thin hand grabs his left wrist.

“Quickly, before more come through!” The hand is attached to a slight, bald man with pointed ears. He yanks Ace’s arm up to the strange green tear before them – how the hell did he miss that?! This must be on the rifts Cassandra mentioned earlier. Light shoots out of his outstretched hand, attaching itself to the rift, and feels like his hand is being tugged. His body screams in agony and time seems to freeze for a moment. Then with a sickening crack, the rift closes and Ace can breathe again.

“Well that’s good to know. Stupid thing’s good for something after all.” Ace grumbles, pulling his hand free of the other, who lets go with no fuss.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” Cassandra states, relief in her voice.

“Possibly.” Baldy replies. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

Ace sighs. He’s rethinking the whole this being real life and not hell.

“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” the little guy approaches, easing the crossbow onto his back. He looks up at Ace. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-along.”

Varric winks at Cassandra, who lets out a disgusted noise, scowling at the other. Ace snorts, a smile tugging at his lips.

“So, that’s an amazing crossbow there, Varric.” That earns Ace a smile from Varric.

“Ah, isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

Ace laughs. “A lovely name for a lovely lady.”

“Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley.”

Ace turns his gaze to the baldy as Cassandra voices her dislike of Varric joining them.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’.” Varric states. Ace blinks in surprise, then gives Solas a short bow at the waist, who steps back, clearly shocked.

“Thank you, Solas. My name’s Ace.”

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.” Solas says, regaining his composure before turning his attention to Cassandra.

He’s telling her something, but Ace ignores it to scavenge the area. He’s not sure how much longer the staff will last, and it never hurts to have a fall back. The back of his neck tingles, and a brief glance over his shoulder proves all three are watching him with varying levels of interest as they talk amongst themselves.

Ace manages to collect a dagger off a dead soldier and some gold pieces, one of which he bites to ensure it’s legit. Varric laughs.

“Don’t trust it?’

“Never hurts to check.” Ace replies as he pockets his findings.

“If you’re done, we must get to the forward camp quickly.” Cassandra calls, loud and impatient. Acce and Varric exchange grins. Cassandra rolls her eyes and begins walking.

“Well, Bianca’s excited!”

That gets a laugh out of Ace, who moves to follow Cassandra as she hops over a small barricade. They all follow suit, Ace easily vaulting over and landing gracefully at Cassandra’s side.

From there, it’s more walking and, of fucking course, more fighting demons. Ace is fast growing tired of the stupid things, mostly because he’s no longer used to combat without his fire to back him up. And he honestly can’t remember when he last ate. Apparently, it shows.

“Fuck!” the curse echoes loud in the valley as a Shade’s claws rake through the staff and across his chest, knocking him flat. Cassandra is there in an instant, shield up as she stands defiantly over him.

Solas slides up to Ace’s side, hands glowing warm, palms hovering over the wound. Ace feels his breathing ease, the wounded flesh slowly stitching itself back together. The fight finishes out and the other two kneel with them, and shit, Cassandra looks furious.

“What in the Maker’s name were you thinking?” She says, glaring fiercely. “We need you alive!”

“Easy, Seeker. Looks like our friend here may not be in top form.” Varric’s gaze is intent, and he alternates between watching Ace and their surroundings.

“You’d make a great lookout up high, Varric.” Ace tells him, getting a smile from Varric.

“Flattering. But I know a topic change when I hear one.”

Ace sighs and allows Solas to help him into a sitting position. He has to admit, magic being an actual thing is pretty fucking neat.

“All right, all right. You got me. My accommodations before this shitshow started weren’t very friendly.” He hops to his feet, glaring at his now broken staff. “Fuck. I need a new one.”

“You are not a mage. Why use it?” Solas asks, as he and the others stand as well.

“Cuz it was within reach and I’m not too keen on goin’ hand to hand with these things.”

With that said, Ace sets off once more, not really wanting to talk anymore. Already his mind is going through his combat options, not really liking his options. A little over two years of relying heavily on the Mera Mera no Mi had made him too used to be practically invincible in combat. Gramps would kick his ass over this for sure.

They’re climbing a set of iced up stairs when a new wave of agony hits, drawing a sharp hiss out of Ace. He shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching as he pushes on.

“Shit, are you all right?” Varric asks. Ace just nods, keeping his eyes on the path ahead, trying to ignore the faint complaints making themselves known throughout his tired body. “Mm. So...are you innocent?”

“I don’t remember all the details.” Ace replies. Varric lets out a bark of laughter.

“That’ll get you every time. Should have spun a story.”

“That’s what you would’ve done.” Cassandra says.

“It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.”

Based on the silence behind him, Ace bets Cassandra’s glaring at Varric as they progress onward. He makes a mental note to figure what that’s all about later. For now, though, he’s more concerned about the demons up ahead. The others are talking amongst themselves as they go into action, something about Leliana and a camp. Ace loses track after that, blood pounding in his ears as slides the dagger free from its sheathe, slashing at his foes with teeth bared.

After, it’s even more demons and another rift outside a set of gates. The guards at the gate let out amazed shouts as Ace slice his way through the demons pouring out. Admittedly, he starts showboating a little, especially since it’s the unarmed prowess that gets the best reactions. With a final swipe, the last demon falls and Ace lifts his arm, feeling the tug of the mark and rift connecting with each other. One tense moment later, it seals shut with a bang, leaving Ace with a slightly numb hand.

The guards look impressed with him as he and the others pass through the gates. Ace grins at them as Cassandra takes the lead, heading straight for a table where Leliana stands with an angrily shouting man. And boy, she’s clearly not happy either. Ace’s smile falls as they approach. Good money says he’s the reason they’re arguing.

“Enough! I will not have it!” the man shouts. He glares as Ace and the rest come to a stop before him. “Ah, here they come.”

“You made it.” Leliana says, relief clear in her voice. “Chancellor Roderick, this is-”

“I know who he is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Ace feels his body begin to shake. The sensation of magma melting through his flesh encompasses his being, his breathing stops completely for an unknown breadth of time as his mind screams: not again not again notagainnotagain fucking hell please not again I can’t please god no no no-

Sturdy, gloved hands grab his and Ace jerks, eyes wild as he looks around. Everyone’s staring at him with varying levels of concern, except Roderick – if looks could kill, Ace is pretty sure he’d be in pieces by now. Tugging at his wrists draws his gaze down, causing panicked onyx to make contact with warm liquor brown.

“Breathe, Freckles.” Varric says, calm as can be. The nickname brings another to mind, whose voice was just as calming, the same concern in his eyes. “Just breathe.”

Ace closes his eyes and breathes, in and out for a long moment, drawing a sense of calm from the similarities between Varric and his dear friend. His heart aches for the familiar warm embraces Thatch would give. He wonders, in a brief idle thought, if Varric's hold would just as warm and comforting. Steadier now, he looks up and locks eyes with Roderick.

“Listen here, asshat. I don’t have the time or the patience for your bullshit, and neither does anyone else standing here. So either help or get the fuck out of my way.” Ace snarls, voice like steel, the same tone oft used with enemies and insubordinate crew mates alike. Roderick seems to sway in place, almost like he’ll fall over, but Leliana steadies him.

Varric releases Ace’s hands and steps back, barely keeping a smirk off his face. Ace steps away from the group rolling his head and shoulders to ease his tense muscles as Roderick and the two women start arguing about soldiers and paths. His stomach gurgles, which he does his best to ignore. Fuck, it’s honestly a wonder he’s still standing. He hopes to whatever deity is watching this show that it’s over soon.

“Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.” Roderick pleads, voice tired and shaky. As if to impress the urgency of the situation, the Breach expands and Ace groans in agony, worn body swaying in place as the stupid mark responds.

“How do you think we should proceed?” Cassandra asks. Ace blinks and looks at her.

“Hold up. You’re asking me what I think?”

“You have the mark.” Solas says.

“And you are the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own...” Cassandra adds, clearly displeased.

“...Mountains. Let’s just work together and get this over with.”

And, fuck, did Cassandra look even more pissed, but Ace is officially done with the day. He just really wants to go home.

The mountains prove to shitty, beyond the climbing. More demons – hooray – and it’s even fucking colder up here. Plus side, they find a staff Solas takes a shine to so Ace gladly takes up the old one and they rescue a lost patrol. That puts Cassandra in a much better mood.

The Temple though...the sight of the broken ruins tug at Ace’s heart. As they walk, he takes in the sight of the charred, mangled bodies of the people and wonders: Who would do this and why? Was it worth it? His mouth is stuck in a tight frown. These people were just trying to talk about peace and some lunatic murdered them.

“That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” Cassandra says.

From there they meet up with Leliana, who looks relieved to see them. Ace looks past her, up at the Breach.

“Yeah. I’m gonna need help getting up there.” Ace states. Leliana nods in response and turns to the troops with her. Solas stands next to him.

“No. This rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

“All right. Let’s move.” Ace says, not sparing anyone a glance as he hops over the rail before him, into the pit below. The rest are quick to find a safer way down as images flashes before them all.

“What’s going on here?’ Ace’s voice booms, the same tone he’d use when breaking up fights between unruly crew mates.

“Run while you can! Warn them!” cried the image of an old woman.

“We have an intruder. Kill him now.” hiss the third apparition, then it’s all gone. The others are standing with Ace now, shocked.

“You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?” Cassandra grabs Ace by the should, metal gauntlets digging in. Ace flinches, pulling away.

“I don’t remember!”

Solas steps forward, quickly explaining the images and what messing with the rift above them entails. More demons. Hoo-fucking-ray. Everyone scurries into battle ready positions, and after taking a moment to push down shaking nausea, Ace opens the rift.

“Fucking hell.” He stares up at the large monstrosity before him. “What the fuck do they feed those things?!”

It bellows loudly, electricity crackling to life in its massive hand. Ace shouts back and charges. The fight is proving to be long and brutal, Ace and the others doing their best to avoid the lightning and its fists. Thankfully, fucking with the rifts knocks it off balance, but standing still like that is a pain. Especially given that it keeps getting back up and the rift giving it backup.

“Son of a bitch.” Ace pants, hopping away from a Shade’s claws. “Hate this. Hate today.”

The staff Solas gave him splinters a bit on the next swing. Ace knows one more hit, and it’s gone. Everyone’s tired, he can tell from their voices, but they’re fighting like hell. Ace isn’t going to let that effort go to waste.

That’s always been his way. He’s never backed down from a fight. Not when people are relying on him. He’s done his best to never fail. Not his brothers. Not his crew. Not his allies. But he’s so damn tired. Everything hurts. His vision is blurring at the edges. He’s not sure how much he has left in him.

The demon roars, rearing back to strike, somewhere behind Ace. A glance over his shoulder and Ace moves without thinking, the lightning whip wrapping tight around his waist instead of Varric’s throat. For a brief moment, his world is nothing but white hot pain. Just like when he saved Luffy.

Someone screams his name, fear tinging their voice. Anger pulses through him, hot and furious. Ace screams at the demon, letting it all out, Every last bit of it. The pain, the anger, the hurt, the unfairness of it all. The pain stops. People are on their knees, scouts foaming at the mouth, Cassandra and the others staring at him in awe. Ace charges at the beast, scream still echoing from his throat as he leaps and brings the staff down on its face. There’s a loud crack, but the blackened length of wood holds together. The demon fades away. He lands, hand extending to the rift. Power surges through his body along with pain. It’s so much – too much. The rift closing is the last thing he sees as his legs give out.


	3. Founding the Inquisition part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you wanna hit me up you can find me at [my tumblr](http://pagans-inane-musings.tumblr.com)

_They’re up in their make-shift crow’s nest, laughing as they play. The sun is warm, the light reflecting off the lenses of Sabo’s goggles. Luffy’s hat is crooked from a gust of wind. Joy soars through Ace. They’re together. Nothing can hurt them here._

_“Hey, Ace. You gotta wake up.” Sabo says._

_“Huh?”_

_“Yeah, Ace-nii! What Sabo-nii said!” Luffy shouts, hugging him tight before pulling away._

_“What are you-”_

_“Wake up!” Both shout in unison, pushing him hard. He falls from the tree, screaming._

***

Ace jerks awake, gasping for air. He feels too damn warm, claustrophobic in the too tight clothes he’s in. Mindlessly, he pulls at his shirt, but there’s so many buttons. Why are there so many fucking buttons? A clattering noise catches his attention, and he looks up to see a young woman with pointed ears.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!”

Ace blinks at her, then looks around. He’s on a bed in a small cabin. He’s not wearing the clothes he fought in, and he’s been patched up again. His hand even aches less. He smiles at the girl.

“Hey, it’s okay. I -”

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.” the girl says as she falls to her knees. “You’re back in Haven, my lord. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone’s talked about for three days.”

The way this girl falls to her knees, how she doesn’t look up to him while speaking… It reminds Ace of the slaves he’s seen in the company of the Celestial Dragons. It makes his stomach twist, bile rising up his throat. He takes a deep breath.

“Okay, so, the same people who wanted me dead are...happy with me?” Ace can’t believe that. It has to be a trick.

“I’m only saying what I heard. I don’t mean anything by it.” She leaps to her feet, keeping her eyes averted. “I’m sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you’re wakened. She said ‘at once’!”

Ace stands, slow as to not startle her further. She slowly edges away from him. Ace really hopes she’s not expecting him to hurt her.

“And she is where exactly?” He asks, keeping his voice soft and even.

“In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once’, she said.” Then she’s out the door like he might set her on fire. Ace takes a moment to breathe, pushing down his nausea. He’s used to people being apprehensive of him, even scared. But the lord thing? Being treated like that? It’s new and unnerving as all hell.

Calmer now, Ace looks down at his outfit and blanches. The tight-fitting clothes are gray and not at all flattering. He looks around, desperate for something else to wear as he tears the top open. There in a nearby chair are his shorts and elbow brace. The knife he picked up sheathed and hanging from an arm. Upon inspection, he finds his clothes are even clean. Ace rids himself of the gray monstrosity and pulls on his gear. He feels naked without the rest of his attire, but he’ll take any trace of normalcy he can get. He will, however, forgo the slip-ons the Marines made him wear in favor of the leather boots by the bed. But fuck that shirt. He’ll deal with the cold.

Ace leaves the cabin and about has a heart attack. There’s an entire crowd outside, men and women alike gawking at him, held back by a line of saluting soldiers.

“Oh, what the fuck?” he whispers to himself. He shivers a little, officially freaked out. Grumbling to himself as sets off down the patch, feeling like he’s being herded. And the people are talking amongst themselves.

“Herald of Andraste-”

“Andraste herself blessed him.”

What did Ace step in? And just who the fuck is Andraste? He navigates his way through Haven, towards what he assumes is the Chantry. And the whole damn way, people salute him, bow to him. It’s really unsettling. As is all the talk. His skin crawls, and he once more finds himself fighting nausea.

Thankfully, there’s far less people inside the Chantry, easing his nerves just a bit. However, he can hear Cassandra and Roderick arguing about him. Holy god, Ace is already tired of this asshole’s shit. Ace squares his shoulders and enters the room, immediately aware of the armed men standing close by. Roderick, Cassandra, and Leliana stand at a table. Roderick immediately rounds on Ace, who tilts his chin and meets his eyes.

“Chain him. I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that, and leave us.” Cassandra states. The guards salute and leave them. Ace gives Roderick a shit-eating grin, who looks ready to have a stroke.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.”

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

Ace calmly seats himself on the edge of the table, examining his nails. He feels Roderick’s disdain grow the moment he lays eyes on the part of Oyaji’s mark peeking out over the bandages along with the lettering down his bicep. Grinning wide, Ace leans back on his other hand.

“Figures, eh? I do my best to help, and the high and mighty still want me under the headmen’s axe.” He lets out a flat laugh. “What was that thing Oyaji said once? Ah, right, no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Your actions will be taken into account by the new Divine.” Roderick snarls.

“Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face.” Cassandra retorts.

“Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies that yet live.” Leliana says, calm as can be. Ace watches the gears turn in Roderick’s head, and barely manages not to laugh at the downing look of horrified realization.

“I am a suspect?!” Roderick shouts, clearly offended. Ace grins even wider, jaw aching from it.

“You, and many others.”

“But not the prisoner.” And oh boy, does Roderick sound livid at that thought.

“I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to him for help.” Cassandra says.

“So his survival, that thing on his hand – all coincidence?”

“Providence. The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

Ace flails, smile vanishing as he thuds back flat on the table.

“Hold the fuck on. You’re telling me you think your god picked me to be your savior?!” He hops up to his feet. “Fucking shit, what exactly did I step in?”

“We are all subject to the will of the Maker, whether we like it or not.” Cassandra says, voice soft but tone firm. “No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

“The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it.” Leliana adds, voice and face giving nothing away.

“This is not for you to decide.” Roderick interjects. Ace suppresses the urge to punch him.

Cassandra slams a large, thick book down onto the table. Roderick freezes.

“You know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.” She states, before advancing on Roderick, backing him into a wall while poking him in the chest. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.”

Roderick manages to step away from Cassandra and, after giving them all a dirty look, leaves. Ace leans on the table, suddenly drained. He’s got a feeling they’re going to need him to stick around.

“This is the Divine’s directive. Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.” Leliana says.

“But we have no choice. We must act now. With you at our side.” Cassandra says, directing the last bit at Ace, who sighs.

“Of course.” Ace hangs his head. “Of fucking course.”

He weighs his options. He has no idea where he is, how he got here, and he has no friends or money. And most importantly, he has no idea how the fuck he survived Akainu. Is it a miracle? Some sort of divine will? Or is this a fucked up punishment for the cursed blood flowing through his veins?

He can feel both women watching him. Would they force him to stay? Leliana maybe, but Cassandra struck him as too honest. She wouldn’t abide keeping him against his will now that she was convinced he was innocent.

“All right. We’ll see how this goes.” he says after a long moment.

“Help us fix this before it is too late.” Cassandra says as she offers out her hand. Ace stands straight and clasps their hands together.

From there, two others join them in the room. Ace watches as they talk amongst themselves. They set down markers of sorts on the table, which Ace belatedly realizes has a map spread out over the top.

Everything is hectic, but these four control the chaos of it with ease. Messages are sent, orders are given. People group up at the front of the Chantry as the male newcomer nails a proclamation to the door. None seem to expect anything of Ace besides his presence, which suits the pirate fine. But given how the people watch him with eager, hopeful eyes, he supposes he can see why. Still annoying, though. He stares past it all, up to the Breach. The left hand tingles slightly. Will this kill him -this insanity he never asked for? And how adoring will these people be when the truth comes out? Honestly he just hopes that maybe, just maybe, if all this works out, he can go home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you wanna hit me up you can find me at [my tumblr](http://pagans-inane-musings.tumblr.com)

Within moments of the announcement of the Inquisition to the people, Leliana and the two unknowns head right back into the Chantry. Cassandra remains at Ace’s side as he stares at the Breach. Eventually, he shivers and looks to Cassandra.

“I guess we should go join them?” he asks. She meets his gaze and shrugs.

“If you’re ready.”

Ace nods and heads inside, flexing his fingers to chase out the faint chill. Cassandra easily matches his stride, watching as Ace lifts his left hand to examine the mark.

“Does it trouble you?”

“Eh, I’ve had worse.” Ace replies dismissively as he shoves his hands into his pockets. Cassandra nods in understanding.

“What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed – provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.” She tells him, causing him to stop with a low whistle.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s power up the big tear in the sky that we barely know anything about. Great plan.” Ace says, sarcasm heavily coating his voice. Cassandra chuckles.

“Hold on to that sense of humor.”

They share a quiet laugh before continuing on back into what Ace realizes is essentially now a war room. Leliana and the others are standing on the other side of the massive table, talking quietly among themselves. They all look up at him upon his entry. Cassandra gently shuts the door, and they step up to the table. Ace runs his fingers through his hair, trying to tidy the messy locks.

“May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra gestures to the blonde man, who nods his head.

“Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through.” Cullen says.

Just from that, Ace figures he’s one of the less morally gray people running this show. He’s probably stern, but fair. And not bad on the eyes. Cassandra then directs his attention to the last person in the room with them, a dark haired woman with rich brown skin.

“This is Lady Josephine Montiliyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.” she states.

“I’ve heard much. A pleasure to meet you at last.” Josephine says, nodding her head to him. She’s a beauty for sure, and her measured tone lets Ace know she’s probably very good at her job.

“Heard much? That has the potential to be embarrassing.” Ace laughs. Josephine smiles, friendly and polite.

“I promise, I will judge you on what you show me, serrah.” She replies.

“And of course you know Sister Leliana.”

“My position here involves a degree of...” Leliana begins, only to be cut off by Cassandra.

“She is our spymaster.”

“Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra.” Leliana says, frowning. Ace can’t help but laugh at that.

“My name is Portgas D. Ace. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Ace says as he gives a polite – if shallow – bow.

“I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.” Cassandra tells as he straightens.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Leliana states. Cullen looks frustrated.

“And I disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.” He retorts. Ace watches with a straight face, trying to not let on to the fact that he has no idea what they’re talking about. All he understands is that magic users like Solas are apparently a different faction.

“We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-” Cassandra begins, frustration clear as she meets his gaze.

“Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-”

“Pure speculation.” Leliana interjects. Cullen scowls at her.

“I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.” He sounds so affronted, like a cat shooed off a table. Ace honestly finds it kind of funny. He hears Josephine let out a tired sigh.

“Unfortunately, neither group is willing to even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition – and you specifically.” She says, looking to Ace, who frowns.

“Well, shit. That doesn’t sound good. Lemme guess – I’m a no good killer?” Ace drawls, leaning on the war table.

“That is not the entirety of it any longer.” Josephine replies. “Some are calling you the ‘Herald of Andraste’, and that frightens the Chantry. The remaining Clerics have declared it blasphemy, and us heretics for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt.” Cassandra practically snarls as Ace blanches. Fuck even here he’s a damn pariah.

“It limits our options. Approaching the mages or the templars for help is currently out of the question.” Josephine says.

Ace sighs, hoisting himself up to sit on the war table’s edge. Idly scratching his chest, he looks to Cassandra.

“Okay, so why do people think I’m some sort of herald?”

“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.” She tells him.

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-” Leliana says, only to be interrupted by Cassandra.

“Which we have not.” She says, frowning.

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?” Cullen asks, smiling at Ace.

“Yeah, no. I don’t like it at all. This kind of shit never ends well.” Ace replies, expression dark as he looks away from the group, folding in on himself a little. He can’t help but think of the blind worship given to the Celestial Dragons. It makes his skin crawl.

“I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”

“People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you’re that sign.” Leliana says.

“And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong.” Josephine adds. Ace looks up, confused.

“Fucking shit! There’s a hole in the fucking sky! Y’know, the real fucking problem?!” He shouts, anger bubbling up in his chest. He lets it – anger is familiar to him, a far safer emotion than fear and discomfort. This Chantry is sounding more and more like the upper crust back home – uncaring of people’s suffering, even as things fall apart around them.

“They do know that it is a threat, they just don’t think we can stop it.” Cullen replies, while giving him a look that mirrors his own frustration.

“The Chantry is telling everyone that you’ll make it worse.” Josephine adds as she fusses with the clipboard in her hand.

“There is something you can do. A Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and know those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.” Leliana says to Ace, her sharp gray eyes watching him. He forces himself to relax a little, even as his anger warms him in place of his lost fire.

“Sounds worth a shot. I’ll go hear her out.” Ace says after a moment of consideration. He can handle it if things go south.

“You’ll find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“Look for opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you’re there.” Cullen advises. Ace arches a brow at him.

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them.” Josephine explains.

“Ah, okay. No problem. I’ll see what I can do.” Ace assures them. It’s then, as if sensing most things of import are over, his stomach lets out a fierce rumble. Ace groans, clutching his gut. “Oh, m’hungry!”

Everyone stares for a minute, before laughing, the room’s tension dissipating alongside Ace’s low-grade anger. Cassandra rests a hand on his shoulder and looks to the rest.

“In the meantime, let’s think of other options. I won’t leave this all to the Herald.” She says before looking at Ace. “Now then, let’s find you a meal.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, so sorry for the late update. Life happened and the updates are probably gonna be slower cuz of that. Thank you for your patience and support.  
> Also, not gonna lie, chapter titles are not a strong suit for me so unless I think of something clever, I'm not gonna be naming them anymore. ;^^  
> As always, if you wanna hit me up you can find me at [my tumblr](http://pagans-inane-musings.tumblr.com)

The Singing Maiden is a warm, cozy place and Flissa, the lady running it, gives him a friendly smile as Cassandra leads him over to the counter.

“Serrah Flissa, our Herald is evidently hungry.” Cassandra tells her as they sit down. Flissa nods, grabbing up a bowl and some cutlery before heading over to a large cauldron over the fire.

“I hope you like mutton, your worship.” She says cheerfully. Ace fights the urge to shudder at being called that and offers a large grin.

“I’m a fan of anything edible. Especially if there’s meat involved.” He replies. Cassandra snorts, shaking her head. “Hey, when you grow up in the woods in the middle of the mountains, you learn quick no to be picky.”

“Mountains, you say? And what did you eat?” Cassandra asks as Flissa places the full bowl down in front of him.

“Ah, thank you, Flissa!” Ace says before replying. “Anything that could be eaten. The local wildlife, random plants, so on. I learned real fast what was safe and what wasn’t.”

He digs in, easily demolishing the stew much to the ladies’ amazement. And he doesn’t know if it’s his hunger talking, but it’s easily the most delicious thing he’s eaten in quite a while.

“I see… Wait, did you have to fend for yourself?” Cassandra asks, sounding vaguely horrified. Ace blinks as he sets the bowl down.  
“Yeah. Dadan had a rule. You wanna eat, you help out.” He replies. “Everyone had to do it. And if you didn’t live by her rules, it sucked to be you.”

“And how old were you when this started?”

“Hmm.. four or five? Can’t really remember.”

Cassandra’s face morphs from vague confusion to absolute horror. Even Flissa has paused in her work to stare. Ace laughs, mostly to ease the tension as he stands, stomach still rumbling piteously.

“That was great, Flissa. But I’m gonna hunt for the rest of my meal. Don’t wanna eat up too much of your stores.” He gives her a polite bow before heading out, Cassandra hot on his heels.

“Herald, you can’t be serious?” She says as catches up to him, clearly upset. Ace shrugs, not understanding why she’s so distressed.

“I had food and a safe place to sleep. Beggars can’t be choosers.” He pauses, looking her in the eye. “Look, I don’t like talking about my childhood. I live a life of no regrets. I was happy and that’s all that matters to me. Now, I’m gonna go hunt. Talk to ya later.”

And with that, he leaves Cassandra by the town gates, staring after him with a look he’s never liked aimed at him – pity. He’s always hated that look, almost as much as the disdain he often got from the snobs in Goa’s capital. So what if he learned to be self-sufficient earlier than most? Plenty of kids in the world had it far worse than him, and frankly, it was better than he deserved.

Out beyond the gates lies a blacksmith and tents for soldiers. These people seem intent on their current activities, paying him little to no mind as he heads out beyond the town. Ace shivers slightly at the mountain chill, but he knows hunting will warm him up a fair bit, so he slides his way across the frozen river to see what the local wildlife has to offer.

The first things he sees are fennec foxes and small pink creatures (another thing he’s gonna have to ask about). Neither have a lot of meat on them, so Ace plods on, ignoring the skittish little things as they dart away from him. Next are rams. He bets their brethren went into Flissa’s stew. They’re quick and he knows catching even one will be a workout with how hungry he is. Idly scratching his bandaged chest, Ace looks about, hoping for some rocks to chunk at the beasts when he spots the jackpot.

A large bison is ambling along through the snow, heavy breath visible in the chill air. Ace grins, a thrill running up his spine. Another look about and he spots a hefty looking rock. Grabbing it, Ace slowly scrambles up on the large boulder over-looking the immediate area. Gives him someplace safe to be in case the damn thing charges.

Taking a few deep breaths, Ace settles into a pitching stance, aims and throws hard. With a high pitched noise, the beast topples as the rock hits dead between the eyes with a sickening crack. Ace cheers, scrambling down to check his kill. Sure as shit, it’s dead as a door nail, much to Ace’s joy. He’d hate if if it had to suffer.

Humming to himself, Ace hefts his kill up, ignoring the faint aches of protest that ensue, and heads back to the gates. He’d rather not run the risk of being ambushed by something while he’s eating.

His return prompts many to stop and stare, shock and awe on their faces. Ace ignores it as he sets himself up in an empty spot near wear catapults are being set up.

Field-dressing his meal is soothing, body and mind relaxing as his hands work. Ace fails to notice the small audience that gathers nearby. Hell, he hardly notices when a pair of eager young soldiers bring him firewood and begin the work of setting up said fire. It’s when he leans back to take a breather that he notices all this and that someone is standing behind him. Ace lulls his head back to stare up at the person – a man, who’s frowning down at him, arms folded.

“So, gallivanting about when you’re borderline malnourished and battered as hell?” The man gripes. “You’re lucky I’ve put too much work in you to ignore you.”

“...You’re the one who patched me up, huh?”

“I’m Adan, the healer. And I’m overworked as it stands.”

Ace stands then bows, deep at the waist.

“Thank you very much, Adan. And I’m sorry for any stress I’ve caused you.” He rights himself and, fuck, everyone in the immediate area looks shocked. He can’t fathom why though.

Adan chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, you’re a strange one, Herald. Just try to take it easy. And if you want to make it up to me, come see me once you’re all done.”

“Can do.” Ace says with a smile, then goes back to his kill as Cullen’s voice rings out.

“What’re you all gawking at? Back to work!”

The heavy thud of armored feet signal Cullen coming over to him, and the small gathering around Ace scatters. He stops and takes a knee by Ace, who greets him with a grin.

“Hey, Cullen. How doin’?”

“Well enough, all things considered. There’s much to do. Though I have to ask… did you kill this by yourself?” Cullen asks as he tends to the fire.

“Sure did.” Ace grins wider as Cullen let’s out a low whistle.

“And without a weapon? You really are a brave one.”

“I mean, I had a rock. I’m still too weak to go without, y’know?”

“Maker’s breath. Remind me not to get on your bad side, your worship.”

Ace almost stabs himself as he flinches at the title, easy grin immediately gone. Cullen pauses, tense from sudden mood change.

“Your-?”

“Don’t. Please, mate, if you want me to respect you, please don’t call me that.” Ace says as he finishes breaking down his kill. “I get that everyone thinks I’m blessed or some shit, but… I...”

“It makes you uncomfortable.” Cullen remarks, voice soft.

“...Where I’m from, this kind of shit… Those kind of titles...” Ace pauses, then begins setting up the meat to cook. “No good ever comes of it. Ever.”

“…. I understand, Ace. Would you like me to inform the others?

“That’d be great, yeah.”

“I doubt we’ll be able to stop the people...” Cullen looks thoughtful, like he’s trying to puzzle out if they actually can. Ace shakes his head.

“That should be okay. I mean, it’s gonna freak me right the fuck out near constantly, but with you guys…. We have to work together and I’d rather not dread talking to any of you.”

The pair sit back and watch the meat cook. Cullen calls for a water bucket so Ace can clean his hands, which he gratefully does. Ace stares into the flames, heart and body aching. He can’t pinpoint how he knows, but he’s certain his power is gone. He wonders how long it’ll take for someone to get a hold of the it next. The near constant invulnerability of the last two years is gone, leaving Ace feeling naked. He hates feeling this exposed. He doesn’t even realize that he’s shakily reached out his hand to the flames until Cullen catches his wrist, keeping Ace from burning himself, concern evident in his eyes.

“Ace?”

Ace doesn’t answer, staring down at his bright red palm. Numbly, he returns to his cooking, pushing down the childish urge to cry. This is not the time nor the place to break down. Cullen, mercifully, doesn’t push, just sits with him, tending the fire while Ace cooks.

Their silence is only broken occasionally by soldiers bringing things to Cullen, but they seem to sense their presence is unwanted and keep it brief. Ace eventually lets out a sigh.

“Hey Cullen?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Shall I leave you to your meal?”

“Yeah, don’t let me keep you.”

Cullen nods and stands, armor clanking as he moves and stretches. Gently, he clasps Ace’s shoulder.

“For all our sakes, go see Harriet when you’re done. I’m sure he’s eager to get you decently equipped.”

“Sure thing, Cullen.”

Cullen smiles and leaves, calling out to his soldiers. Ace tests the meat, grinning when he finds it to his liking. He eats, watching people come and go as he steadily works through his meal. He feels more like himself when he’s done, borderline cheerful as he cleans up after himself.

Gathering up the beast’s skin, Ace heads over to the blacksmith, humming to himself as he walks. The people here are busy, metal ringing on metal mixing with voices yelling back and forth. The warmth of the forge is pleasant, chasing an unrealized chill from his bones. Ace wanders over to the nearest person, doing his best not to startle the man as he works. He waits until the other isn’t so focused before tapping his shoulder.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Harriet?”

“You’re talkin’ to him.”

“Awesome. Uh, I’m Ace. Cullen said I should talk to you.” Ace says, holding up the skin. “Also, I brought this. Figured you could use it.”

“Ah, well met, Herald.” Harriet steps back from his work bench, wiping sweat from his brow. “You can put that there, and thank you for bringing it.”

Ace deposits the skin where the other points him to, then follows at at Harriet’s beckoning. They enter the little house next to the forge where the blacksmith grabs up a pad of paper and a quill.

“Heard about how were fighting. A mage staff and a knife! No armor. Right fucking mad, that is.” Harriet says as he sits in a chair. Ace opts to sit cross-legged by the fire. “I wanna know what you want out of your equipment.”

“Uh… A better knife would be nice – a dagger preferably, if you don’t mind. I only used the staff ‘cuz it was available. I mean, it’s a great tool, but the wood is nowhere near sturdy enough for my combat style. Especially since I noticed that while it’s balanced decently, it’s a bit unwieldy for up close and personal, y’know?” Ace pauses to stretch, watching Harriet make notes. “As for armor…well, I’ve never had to wear any before. I don’t like to be restricted...” He trails off there, wondering if Harriet will think it odd he’s never needed to be armored on sheer virtue of durability and his fire. The rules here are unknown to him, and he’s unsure if it’s safe to ask questions.

As he stares off, Harriet switches to charcoal and sketches away, mumbling to himself as he works. Eventually, Harriet clears his throat, drawing Ace’s attention back to him. Ace scooches over to sit by the chair, peering at Harriet’s work.

“A good dagger is easy enough, Herald, given that all sorts use ‘em. I have an idea on the staff – metal is a must. I saw the damage to the staff you used -”

“Ha, that was number two.” Ace mumbles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Harriet blinks.

“Maker’s breath, you – No, not gonna try. Just know, this one will hold.” Harriet states, adding notes to his sketches. Ace can tell right away that a big priority is learning how to read. He’s not looking forward to that. “As for your armor, if you want mobility, I’ll fit you into some leather. The rogue-types favor it, but keep in mind that a well placed hit will cut clean through.”

“They’ll have to hit me first.” Ace retorts with a laugh, getting to his feet. “Thank for this, Harriet.”

“Of course, Herald. Just get measured so I can get working on your armor once I’m done with your staff.”

“Can do!” Ace says, waving his farewell as he ducks out the door. He quickly gets himself measured, smiling and trying his best to joke with the other smithies. Thankfully, they’re not very in awe of him, and joke back.

Once he’s done with that he heads back into the town proper, heading for where one smithy said Adan was set up. He sees Varric set up by a campfire, reading through a thick sheaf of paper with a look of obvious displeasure. As much as he would love to get the guy smiling, he knows letting the doctor look him over is too important to stall much longer. So, onward he goes, past the tavern and up some stairs to a little horseshoe of cabins. Solas stands to Ace’s immediate right, staring up at the Breach in quiet contemplation.

“Hey, Solas.” Ace greet, drawing Solas’s gaze down to him. “Question – which cabin is Adan in? The smithies only said up here.”

“That one there.” Solas replies, gesturing to the cabin straight ahead. “How are you faring?”

“Alright, I guess. I’ve had worse, so...” Ace trails off with a shrug. “Look, how ‘bout I come back for a chat once I’m done with Adan?”

“If you like.” Solas responds, pleasantly neutral as he turns his gaze back up.

Ace jogs over to Adan’s cabin, pausing to knock on the door frame before stepping in.

“Pardon, but you said to stop by?”

Adan looks up from the desk he’s at and nods.

“That I did. First off, let’s have a look at your wounds.” He grabs a stool and drags it to the room’s center.

Ace obediently plops onto the stool, sitting up straight as Adan watches, nodding his approval.

“Mother taught not to fight your healers?” he asks, setting to work on undoing Ace’s bandages.

“Nah, never had the pleasure of knowing her. I used to fidget and fuss like no one’s business until Deuce got a hold of me.” Ace grins at the memory. “Fucker thumped me good until I learned to sit still.”

Adan chuckles at that, gentle hands examining Ace’s bruised flesh. Ace sits still through it all, moving only when bid. He’s not in too much pain, a fact he shares with the healer, but he is still a little tired.

“That’d be the undernourishment talking. How long did you go without eating?” Adan asks as he goes through some containers on is desk.

“Uh… before today? Maybe something small every few days. I wasn’t exactly some place… friendly before all this.” Ace shifts, nervous energy making him twitchy. How the hell can he say he was in prison before this? He doesn’t want to upset the people that now look to him.

“Understandable. Prisoners don’t exactly get good treatment.” Adan returns to his side, a jar in his hand as goes for Ace’s left side. Ace frowns, watching Adan apprehensively.

“...How did you…?”

“You came to us filthy, starving, and bruised within an inch of your life. The worst of that was on your wrists and ankles, which means you were bound.” Adan says as he rubs a poultice onto Ace’s bruises. “If you’re scared you’re gonna be ratted out, you’ve got no reason. Not from me at least. You saved us, and that put you in my good books.”

Ace nods, grateful for this bit of kindness. It reminds him of home, this easy acceptance of him as he is – of Deuce scolding him for being too damn reckless even as he soothed Ace’s hurts. Of Marco and Thatch’s endless attempts to reach out when all he wanted was to fight…. He sniffles, scrubbing away the abrupt tears that come flooding out. Adan says nothing, seeming for all the world entirely intent on finishing his work. After the poultice, he wraps Ace’s torso with fresh bandages.

“Just rest and eat regular meals for a few more days. And for the love of Andraste, put on a damn coat. Can’t have you catching your death.”

“Yessir. I’ll get on that.” Ace hops off the stool as Adan goes back to his desk. “Oh, what was the other thing?”

“I need you to see if you can find Master Taigen’s notes. He was working on something, but he died at the Temple.” Adan says. “Find them, and I’ll forgive you for running wild earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, I can do that.” Ace laughs.

*********************

Finding himself a loose-fitting jacket gets him introduced to Therin, the quartermaster. She asks for his help with some minor tasks as well, which Ace readily accepts. By day’s end, Ace finds not only what he hopes are Taigen’s notes, but also several iron deposits, a fuck-ton of elfroot (a plant vital to the healer’s work, apparently), and a good spot for some minor logging to take place. He didn’t mean to get so busy – but her wants to be helpful, and it’s easy to lose himself in busy work. Hell, he gets so into the work he winds up singing shanties to himself loud enough at some point to warrant some soldiers coming to investigate the noise. He takes advantage of their presence, having them help him haul his findings back to town, cheerfully chatting them up the whole way back.

Varric stops him from going back out, laughing a little as he says, “Maker’s balls, Freckles, take a breather.”

“Uh… sure just let me go give these to Adan.” Ace says. Varric walks to Adan’s with him, pace slow and easy-going. Ace slows himself to match up with the other, easing some out some of his self-induced energy.

“How ya holdin’ up?”

“Alright. I’ve been better, but I’ve also been a lot worse.” Ace pauses at Adan’s door. “You?”

“Too cold for my tastes. And the Merchant’s Guild is on my ass again, but that’s nothing new.” Varric replies.

Ace chuckles and ducks inside, holding up the small bundle of papers he found.

“This what you were wanting?”

Adan takes the offered papers, immediately looking them over with eager eyes. His mouth twits up into a grin as flips through the pages.

“This is indeed, Herald. This will help save a good deal of lives.” Adan says, clearly relieved. Ace gins back.

“That’s good to hear. Glad I could find it for ya.” Ace turns back out. “I’m off. Varric’s yelling at me to rest.”

Adan facepalms as Ace quickly shuts the door behind himself. Varric laughs and lead Ace back to the tavern. Varric buys a bottle of something and manages to sweet-talk two mugs out of Flissa with the promise of their return by tomorrow morning.

“C’mon, Freckles.” Varric says, leading the other out and straight to the cabin he woke up in.

“Why in here?” Ace asks as he kicks the door shut behind them.

“First off, they’re your quarters now. No one here wants to deny the Herald a warm place to sleep. Secondly, I figured you’d enjoy the quiet.” Varric sets the bottle and mugs down on the desk and begins pouring them drinks.

“….Thanks, Varric.” Ace shrugs the jacket off and sits on his bad.

“No problem.” Varric brings him a mug then sits in the chair. “I see you didn’t like the clothes Ruffles picked out.”

“Too tight.” Ace takes a drink, savoring the burn of the alcohol. “So do you give everyone nicknames?”

“Just people I like.” Varric replies. “If you don’t like it...”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’ve been called worse.” Ace says before taking another drink.

“Oh-ho? Like what, pray-tell?” Varric’s grin is wide and infectious, as Ace feels his own lips respond.

“Mostly bastard. Son of a bitch was another favorite.” He leans back, resting against the wall as he remembers. “My personal favorite was the time I got called a ‘sly, seductive little monster’.”

Varric cackles at that, a small measure of booze sloshing out of his cup as he slaps his knee.

“That’s gotta be one hell of a story.”

“Nah, just my mouth getting me in, than out, of trouble.” A lumps forms in his throat as he stares off into the fire. “He wasn’t exactly wrong, but he wasn’t trying to be an ass. I started it.”

Varric arches his brow but opts to switch subjects. “Thanks for earlier. Against the Pride demon.”

“Hey, no problem. You’re a good guy. And I’m not in the habit of letting my allies die.”

“Well, you’ve certainly earned my respect. I’ll stick around a bit longer, if that’s all right with you, oh Herald.”

Ace sticks his tongue out before responding. “Only if you never call me that again, mate.”

“Can do, Freckles.”

They fall into easy chit-chat after that, Ace avoiding revealing too much, mostly out of habit. Varric doesn’t pry much to Ace’s relief. The drinking mostly has them telling stories about friend’s shenanigans.

“-And then he fuckin’ punches the damn thing in the eye, killing it, and makes it his dinner. All ‘cuz it ate this pig he’d been trying to catch for the last two days.” They both laugh for a long moment, before Ace continues. “Then he’s like ‘want some, Ace?’ and I’m like ‘nah, bro, clearly you got a thing goin’ with this thing and I’m stayin’ outta that’.”

Varric settles back in his chair. “Andraste’s tits, Freckles. That brother of yours is something else.”

“Yeah, he is.” Ace smiles. “He’s a dopey little idiot who just does what he wants. Makes a big brother worry.”

“I bet.” Varric takes a swig of his drink, then sighs. “Think it’s time to hit the hay.”

Ace groans in response as he slides to the side, face-planting his mattress. He feels Varric take his mug from him, eliciting a small noise of protest.

“Oh, hush. You’re fine.” Varric chuckles. “Get some rest, Freckles.”

“G’night, Varric.” Ace slurs as he fidgets his way under the blankets.

“Good night.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, this chapter took forever. My bad. Like I mentioned before, life happened and continues to happen. And my computer sucks major ass.   
> Thank you for your continued patience and support. I couldn't do this without y'all!  
> As always, if you wanna hit me up you can find me at [my tumblr](http://pagans-inane-musings.tumblr.com)

_Smoke fills the air as a continuous cacophony of screams, weapon fire, and clashing metal rings in Ace’s ears. Hands pin him down, cruel laughter mocking his pathetic attempts at breaking fee. Before him, Akainu stands over Luffy – who is reaching desperately for him – with his fist cocked back, magma roiling and dripping from the knuckles._

_“This is justice.” The magma pierces Luffy’s chest. Dark eyes full of tears go blank. Ace screams._

“NO!”

“Herald, stop!”

Ace comes to his senses on the ground. He’s straddling Solas, one hand around the other’s throat and the other cocked back, clenched tight. Solas is slack in his grip, hands spread in a placating fashion.

“Ace?” He rasps.

Ace jerks away like he’s been burned, gasping for air as he crawls off the other male. He presses againist his bed, shaking as he stares at nothing. Solas coughs and shifts about for a few moments before laying a gentle hand on Ace’s shoulder.

“Forgive me. Some friends told me of your distress, and I foolishly did not think through my decision to wake you with a shake.”

Ace shakes his head, struggling to reply, but his voice fails him. Solas remains close, not speaking as he waits for Ace to regain his wits. It takes much longer than he’d like to admit.

“Fuck, Solas, don’t apologize. I’m the who’s sorry.” Ace says as he shakily stands, Solas following his lead. “You okay?”

“I assure you, I’ve experienced worse.” Solas replies. Gently, he coaxes Ace to sit on his bed, hands steady on his shoulders.

Ace cradles his head in his hands, trying to will away the nightmare from his mind, as Solas kneels at his feet.

“Varric told me of your aversion to your title.” Solas says, obviously trying to distract him from his thoughts and put him at ease. “Would you prefer I continue to call you Ace or-?”

“Ace is fine.” He takes a few, steadying breathes then looks up to meet Solas’s gaze. “So, friends, huh? Someone snooping on me?”

“Yes and no. The friends I speak of are spirits of the Fade. They’ve been helping me watch over you since the Conclave. Usually your dreamings are brief or not so distressing, but they felt my intervention was needed this time.”

“...Neat.” Ace sits up straight. “Thanks, I guess? Never had spirits snooping in my dreams before.”

“On my word, they do not gather details, as dreams are personal things. They merely ensure your sleep goes as undisturbed as possible.

Ace nods, fingers idly scratching at loose bandages. He should probably let the wounds get some air. Then a thought strikes him.

“Hey, can you check something for me?”

“Of course.”

Ace pulls off the wrappings, then stands, turning his back to Solas.

“Any damage to my ink?”

He feels Solas stand and lean in to inspect Oyaji’s mark. After a long moment, he steps back.

“None at all.” He says. Ace lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing away all the morning’s tension. “I take it this mark has great meaning to you?”

“Yeah, it’s Oyaji’s symbol.” Ace replies as he turns back to face him. Solas is staring at him, confusion etched in his thin features.

“Oyaji?” Solas mangles the pronunciation, much to Ace’s amusement. “Forgive me, but I don’t know that word.”

“It means like, uh, ‘old man’ or ‘pops’. He’s my father.” Ace sits back down, using his feet to drag his boots over to him.

“Ah. Fascinating. It is certainly a unique mark.” Solas remarks. “You must love him dearly to tattoo yourself so.”

“Yeah, I do.” Ace successfully pulls his boots on. “Ah, shit, I totally forgot. I meant to chat you up yesterday-”

“It’s quite all right. You were obviously distracted. And all that you found is more important than a simple chat.”

Ace shoots him a look, frowning as he stands.

“Mate, you kept my sorry ass alive. You have more than earned the privilege to talk my ear off.”

Solas nods his understanding, a bemused smile tugging at his mouth. Ace grabs his jacket up and slips it on, not bothering with the buttons.

“Let’s start with the whole spirits in the Fade thing. That sounds interesting.” Ace says.

Solas lights up at that. He talks of spirits and his dream adventures in ancient places as they leave Ace’s little cabin and take a slow walk up to Adan’s. Ace finds himself fascinated by that whole thing and is grateful to found one way to subtly gather some intel on his new home. They part ways at Adan’s doorway, Solas not wanting to be under the healer’s feet as he works. Adan, as seems to be true to his nature, grumbles as he checks over Ace.

“You heal up remarkably fast, Herald. Can hardly tell how bad off you were over the last few days.”

“Really?”

“Aye. I expected you to be laid up at least another week.” Adan steps back, nodding to himself. “Well, I’d say you’re ready for your trip out to the Hinterlands. Just don’t land yourself back in here anytime soon, eh?”

“Can do.” Ace says with a grin. “Thanks a lot, Adan.”

Upon leaving Adan’s, he goes straight for the Chantry, hoping to find Cassandra, only to find she camps out with the soldiers. He goes to leave when raised voices catch his attention.

Someone’s in a temper, shouting about land or something behind a door near the war room. Scowling, Ace shakes his head and goes to leave before he hears Josephine respond, followed by more shouting. He stops dead in his tracks, white hot rage roaring to life in his chest.

“Oh, hell no. Ace growls as he turns on heel and slams the door open.

“Ah, Marquis DuRellion, allow me to present Portgas D. Ace, the Herald of Andraste.” Josephine takes his entrance in stride, just barely maintaining her expression of pleasant neutrality. DuRellion, however, jumps about a foot in the air, clutching his chest in alarm. “Ser Portgas, this the Marquis DuRellion, one of Divine Justinia’s greatest supporters. Ace levels the man with a glare, jaw clenched tight as the man before him recovers from the shock of his arrival. This guy looks every inch like a some noble prick from the streets of Goa, with the only difference being that this bastard wears a mask. Though it does little to hide how badly shaken the Marquis is, as he looks anywhere but directly at Ace.

“And the rightful owner of Haven. House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This ‘Inquisition’ is not beneficiary of this arrangement.” DuRellion says, after clearing his throat.

Ace stared, a furious snarl slowing baring his teeth at the other. Of fucking course. It’s the same no matter where he goes – fucking nobles care more about their own gain than people’s lives. The Grey Terminal fire flashes in his mind, and he can’t stop the words that pour from his mouth.

“Demons are pouring from the fucking sky and worried about land claims?” Ace hisses. “What about all the people outside, huh? You just gonna toss ‘em out in the snow?”

“Haven is the DuRellion’s rightful property!” the Marquis retorts, flinching closer to Josephine in the face of Ace’s seething rage. “And besides, who benefits if these people stay?”

“Divine Justinia, Marquis. The Inquisition – not the Chantry – is sheltering the pilgrims that mourn her.” Josephine says, tone pleasant. She gives Ace a look that tells him to cool his heels. At least a little. DuRellion jolts at that, frowning.

“Why is the Chantry ignoring the faithful?”

“Because it remains in shock.” Josephine replies. The Marquis sighs, looking away from them both. Ace looks to the ground, willing his anger way as he breathes. “We face a dark time, Your Grace. Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they seem”

Ace looks up to watch to Josephine with a feeling of awe. She has a way with words – a way that makes Ace want to believe in what she’s saying – and he wants to try to make things easier for her. She’d make a great captain, that’s for sure. DuRellion seems to think something along the same lines.

“I’ll think on it, Lady Montilyet. The Inquisition might stay in the meanwhile.” DuRellion says, like it’s a concession, before giving them both a nod and leaving. Ace pointedly kicks the door shut behind him, making a crude gesture as he does. Josephine arches an eyebrow at him as she turns to seat herself at the desk nearby, prompting Ace to straighten and clear his throat.

“Right. Uh, sorry for interrupting.” Ace bobs a quick bow to her. “It’s just – I heard him yelling at you and got a little …. pissed. It’s, uh, kinda something I’m prone to.” He explains, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You did little harm. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come.” She replies, setting her clipboard down as settles in her chair. Ace can’t help but pull a face.

“More nobles?”

“Undoubtedly. And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. An ambassador should ensure the tale is complimentary as possible.”

Ace perches himself on the edge of her desk, nodding along.

“Good thing we have you then. You’re amazing. Me, however? Absolute shit at things like this.”

“Thank you. I hope I can live up to that. Thedas’s politics have become … agitated as of late. I hope to guide us down smoother paths.” Josephine say with a smile, one that Ace returns. “But please excuse me. I’ve much work to do before the day is done.”

“All right. Take care, Josephine.” He slips off her desk, leaving the room. At the door he pauses, then turns. “Hey. I really am sorry about my temper.”

“A temper is nothing that cannot be worked around. All I ask is that you try to reign it in front of our guests.”

“I’ll do my best, Josephine. For your sake.” Ace bows deep at the waist, then leaves, heading out to find Cassandra.

Outside, the people are going about their business while giving the tent across from the Chantry a wide berth. Curious, Ace goes to investigate only to immediately begin backpedaling. Leliana kneels, hands clasped tight together as she prays. Ace doesn’t want to intrude on such a personal moment, but Leliana – as if sensing his presence – lifts her head and looks over her shoulder.

“You speak for Andraste, no? What does the Maker’s prophet have to say about all this? What’s His game?” She asks, so harshly abrupt that Ace freezes in place, almost toppling over from the suddenness of his halt.

“Look, Leliana, you know I don’t like that idea. I don’t speak for your god.” He replies. She frowns, then sighs as she rises to her feet.

“So you don’t even worship him? Lucky. He asks a lot.” She says, idly brushing snow from her knees. “The Chantry teaches us that the Maker abandoned us. He demands repentance for our sins. He demands it all. Our lives. Our deaths. Justinia gave Him everything she had, and He still let her die!”

Lost. Angry, Hurt. Betrayed. Ace knows exactly how she feels right now. Losing a loved one is never easy, and he can tell Justinia was more than just the Divine to the spymaster. He smoothes his hair back, shuffling awkwardly for a moment as he ponders out his response. She watches him, angry and expectant. He thinks of Sabo. Thatch. His mother.

“I’m so sorry, Leliana. I know … it’s horrible. Losing someone you love.” He says as he meets her gaze. She looks away, frown intensifying. “Especially when it’s bullshit. How you lose them. It’s unfair. And all you can think is how it should’ve been anybody but them – even if that means your head on the chopping block.”

“It’s not just me this hurts. It’s all of us. She was the Divine. She led the faithful. She was their heart!” Pacing, she continues. “If the Maker doesn’t intervene to save the best of His servants, what good is he? I used to believe I was chosen, just as some say you are. I thought I was fulfilling His purpose for me, working with the Divine, helping people. But now she’s dead. It was all for nothing. Serving the Maker meant nothing.”

She stops before the table her papers are laid out on, leaning on it with both hands. Ace stares at her back for a long moment.

“…. Y’know, I don’t think it was all for nothing. You helped people. And you can keep helping. Yeah, maybe the Maker had nothing to do with your purpose. That’s something you decide. And if you need help, I’m here, Leliana. I’m told I’m a good listener.”

“No, this is my burden. I regret that I even let you see me like this. It was a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.” She straightens, face schooled to neutrality. “Come. To work then. We will speak later.”

“Right. Okay...” Ace turns to leave, then pauses. “It’s okay to mourn, Leliana. Don’t let that fester. That path … it doesn’t end well.”

Having said his peace, Ace heads straight for the soldier’s tents, not allowing himself to get distracted again. Past the gates, he sees Cullen drilling soldiers with loud, stern orders. Nearby, Cassandra stands, beating the ever-loving shit out of a training dummy with her sword. Taking a deep breath, Ace braces for a verbal lashing since that seems to be how his day’s going. He gets within three feet and the dummy cracks, prompting a disgusted grunt from Cassandra.

“I’m thinking they should be made of something a lot sturdier.” Ace comments idly. Cassandra huffs, staring at the busted dummy with obvious contempt.

“That would be nice.”

“Like maybe iron.”

Cassandra sighs and sheathes her blade, which Ace takes as a signal to come closer. She turns to face him, and he offers her a smile.

“Tell me – did I do the right thing? What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I revered my whole life. One day, they might write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.”

“Kinda a bit late to worry about that now.” Ace remarks, shrugging.

“We have only just begun. My trainers always said, ‘Cassandra, you are too brash. You must think before you act.’ I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing it’s tail. But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to careless again.” Cassandra rants, frustration furrowing her brow.

“Hey. I’m not exactly the poster boy for innocence. I’m sketchy as fuck.” Ace says.

“I was determined to have someone answer for what happened. Anyone.” She looks away, guilt and remorse overwriting the frustration. “You’ve said you don’t believe you are chosen. Does that mean … you also don’t believe in the Maker?”

“ … I don’t believe in any form of god. Seen too much shit for that. You make your own destiny, and I’ve chosen to live a life of no regrets.” Ace replies after a long moment. Cassandra looks contemplative.

“It must be comforting to be so certain. I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not. Now it simply remains to see where it leads us.”

“How bout we start with going to Mother Giselle? Adan cleared me for travel.” Ace offers.

“Harriet told me this morning your things will be done by tonight. We can leave tomorrow.”

“Awesome.” Ace stretches. “You wanna get a bite? I’m starving.”

“Lead the way.” Cassandra says with a smile.

They find their way back to the tavern, where Flissa gladly sets them up with more of her amazing stew, fresh bread, and some warm cider. Settling in at a corner table, they chit-chat over lunch.

“It occurs to me that I don’t actually know that much about you.” Cassandra remarks.

“Right back at you.” Ace laughs. “How bout this – I tell you something about me then you return the favor. Nothing too personal, if it can be helped.”

Cassandra nods as she chews, before swallowing and replying.

“That seems fair.”

“All right … I have two brothers. My little brother is named Luffy Sabo was my age, but , uh, he died when were kids.”

“My condolences. But I know how you feel. I had an older brother – Anthony. He was taken from this world far too soon.”

“Go figure, huh? The good always die too fucking young.” He takes a swig of his drink. “Hmm… Where are you from?”

“Nevarra. You?”

“I don’t know where I was born, but I was raised in Goa Kingdom in the East Blue.”

Cassandra stops, staring oddly at him. Ace stares back then blanches. So much for not too personal. Ace wants to slap himself.

“I’ve … never heard of such a place.” She says. Ace shifts uneasily. Of course she hasn’t – Ace isn’t an idiot – this isn’t his world at all. Even backwater shitholes know his face back home and the whole magic thing are pretty big indicators.

“Uh … can we … not? I don’t …. know how to … I’m not comfortable with trying to explain right now.” Ace looks way from her as he fiddles with his spoon.

“That Dadan you mentioned before … They raised you?”

“Yeah. She was the closest thing I had to a mom. But I never called her that.” Ace laughs. “Gramps came around sometimes, but he was more focused on his military career.”

“My brother and I were raised by our uncle. He took us in after our parents passed.” Cassandra says as she pushes her bowl away. “Was it your grandfather who taught you to fight?”

“He started it, but Luffy and I had to figure a lot of it out on our own. How bout you?”

“Anthony began my training, and I finished with the Seekers.”

She paused as a slim pointed-ear girl approached the table. The girl bobbed a quick bow, eyes averted as she spoke.

“Pardon me, Your Worship, Lady Pentaghast – Master Harriet wishes to see the Herald.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. I’ll get right on that.” Ace stands, shooting Cassandra an apologetic. “Talk more later?”

“I look forward to it.” Cassandra says.

The girl bobs another quick bow, then gathers up their dishes and heads right for Flissa. Cassandra looks slightly exasperated, but makes no move to stop her. Ace makes note to ask someone about it later. Yet another thing he doesn’t know. But he’s got a sneaking suspicion of what this all resembles.

***********

As it turns out, his gear complete. Harriet looks very proud as he lays out each piece.

“As promised, Herald. Keep in mind, I did the best I could with what I have.” Harriet says before picking up a sheathed dagger and the hilt out. Ace draws the blade and lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

The gray metal gleams beautifully in the afternoon light, evenly balanced as he spins the blade. And the edge cuts a hair plucked from his head so easily it brings a grin to his face.

“Ah, sugoi! This is beautiful, Harriet!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Harriet replies, looking for all the world unaffected if not for his prideful tone. “You have to look at everything else.”

Ace laughs, sheathing the blade as Harriet turns and lifts the second item. It’s a quarterstaff, easily longer than he is tall – seven feet if he’s guessing right – and the ends are reinforced with thick iron.

“I know I said metal would be a must, but I found this amongst the blueprints we have, and I thought you might enjoy it.”

Ace eagerly nods as sets his blade down to grasp the pole-arm. He takes it out into the open space in front of Harriet’s, admiring the light wood in the late afternoon light. He goes through an old exercise from his early years, mouth beginning to ache as the perfectly balanced staff spins.

“I love it!” Ace exclaims as he brings the staff to a halt. “So much better than anything I’m used to getting my hands on.”

Harriet is smirking as Ace comes back over, clearly very pleased with the praise.

“Those should serve you well, Herald. Bring me better materials and I’ll make you stronger gear.” He says. “Now, as for your armor -” He gestures to the pieces laid out on the table, “I used the druffalo hide you brought in along with what I already had. It’s sturdy and should keep you warm enough against the oncoming winter chill. And, as we discussed, it’s light – you should have no problem moving about in this – I stake my life on it.”

Ace nods along, admiring the stitch work on the leather as he lifts it up. After a quick “If I may?”, Harriet then helps him into the gear, showing him which straps do what and ensuring the coat is snug and secure. Ace is grateful Harriet wanted to do this first fit himself – it allowed Ace to learn how to get everything settled without having to ask. The coat tails reach his knees while the front stays close to his upper torso. The dark leather fits well and is indeed quite warm.

Ace pulls away once Harriet’s done and grabs up the staff and knife – the latter of which he affixes to his hip. Then he repeats the step pattern. It’s like there’s hardly anything there, once he falls into a proper rhythm, and the coat tail proves to be no hindrance to his movements at all. As he ends the steps, he notices the crowd that has gathered to watch, Cullen and Cassandra at the forefront. Ace gives a large grin and a flourished bow.

“How do I look?”

“Quite well, Ace. Do something about your hair and you’ll look like a proper warrior.” Cullen replies, prompting some laughs.

“But then I won’t look like I don’t care what people think of me.” Ace winks at him, causing the commander to laugh as well.

“Lay off him, Curly.” Varric calls. “I know for certain Hawke didn’t give a rat’s ass about his appearance, and look at what he accomplished.”

The crowd laughs even more as Ace cheerfully waves to Varric. Harriet is practically glowing with pride, as Ace, true to Makino’s lessons, thanks the blacksmith profusely before joining up with Cassandra and the men, still grinning ear to ear.

“Pleased with Harriet’s work?” Cassandra asks.

“And why wouldn’t I be? It’s fuckin’ great.” Ace replies. “Feels kinda like when I first got Striker.”

“A noble steed?” Varric asks, teasing.

“Nope. Kinda? Maybe? She was my raft – Deuce built her.” Ace smiles at the memory. “Only I could use her – never let me down.”

“How long were you at sea, if you don’t mind my asking?” Cullen says as they break away from the crowd, heading towards the Chantry. It makes to Ace, as they’ve got to gather everyone up and get the details for the trip out to Mother Giselle hammered out.

“Three years, almost four.” Ace replies. “Last few months or so was mostly on my own.”

“Falling out with your crew?’ Varric asks. Cullen and Cassandra share his curious look.

“… Of sorts. Not really something I wanna talk about.” Ace avoids looking at them as he replies, a fresh sting piercing his heart as the memory of blood on Moby Dick’s deck resurfaces.

“Understandable.” Cassandra remarks. “Such things are private.”

Ace nods to her as they come to a stop at Leliana’s tent, where she, Josephine, and Solas join them.

“So, Ser Portgas, please try to come and go as quick as you can. We want to know what she has for us as soon as possible.” Josephine says once Cassandra does a quick headcount.

“Don’t worry, Josephine. We’ll be back before ya know it.” Ace says. “I got great people backing me up!”

For the rest of the day, supplies are packed, their course is plotted – all the fuss reminds Ace of prepping to leave port. The wanderer in him is eager to go, and it’s hard from him to settle down for the night, but they all somehow manage – almost.

In the quiet darkness of his cabin, Ace lays abed, idly rubbing his sternum, staring at nothing. Unlike last night, there’s nothing to distract Ace from the jagged edges of his own thoughts. His marked hand aches, and his chest echoes that pain.

Tears come unbidden – Ace gasps at the suddenness of it. His right hand immediately flies up to hide his face as he sobs. He can’t help but wonder about Oyaji and his crew. Luffy. Are they okay? Did they get away? Or did they fall because of him and the cursed blood in his veins?

Ace rolls over, burying himself into the bedding. As he cries himself to sleep, Ace vows to himself that he won’t let theses people down – no matter what.


End file.
